Delicate Beauty
by Zivandre
Summary: Adrian wants his delicate beauty for the rest of his life, but will she say yes? [Slight fairy tale-ness]


_**This is written for The Golden Snitch!**_

 _ **I'm in South, Castelobruxo!**_

 _ **Around The World: [South Side Vipers] Write a story with these prompts: Adrian Pucey, Emerald Green, Envy, Wholesome, Ring.**_

 _ **I Want To Be A Brazilionaire: Write a story about Dancing.**_

 _ **~oOoOoOo~**_

Adrian Pucey fingered the ring that he had secured from his ancestral vault. It would one day rest on the finger of his wife. If she chose him in time.

The ring was small, with a thin silver band, there was a medium sized emerald in the middle, with two diamonds on opposite sides. The band was warm from where he had been fingering it. Contemplating about his choices, his life, how to save himself ultimately.

The girl-no woman- of his dreams danced across the floor. Her simple gold dress flowed around her, her long tresses bounced in the wind. Her face was windswept from the fast twists and turns the dance called for.

But while she was in another man's arms, she still looked beautiful.

He was envious of her carefree attitude, envious of the man holding her tightly in his arms, envious of her not being a Pucey in name yet. But, the envy was not poisonous, it licked at his thoughts, but did not consume him. He would have her when it was time.

As she was swung around the dancefloor, her tinkling laugh graced his ears just over the music. Oh, how he wanted to be the one to make her feel so wonderful. He just hoped, tonight, he could.

Adrian pocketed the ring in case he was bumped and the precious jewelry was dropped. Even though it was goblin made, he did not want anything to tarnish the delicate beauty.

The music slowed down to a standstill, so he stood to make his way across to her, and to ask for her next dance. As he reached closer, he could see the mirth in her mocha eyes, the pink that danced on her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell in a manner that matched his own nervous breathing.

"May I have this dance, Miss Granger?" asked Adrian as he tipped his head down and extended his hand, palm facing up, towards her.

"Yes," she replied breathily. Adrian realized it was probably from her exertion from the previous dance, but deep down, he hoped it was for him.

The beat started, and Adrian placed the hand he wasn't holding on his shoulder, before he placed his on the edge of her shoulder blade.

The music picked up, slowly ascending towards the crescendo in a steady pace, and he followed suit with his feet.

Forwards, sideways, backwards, repeat, all while twirling around the outskirts of the floor. The dance, while it was just a simple ballroom, kept a refined elegance that he had hoped displayed the right emotions he was feeling.

Hermione, as he should be calling her, may be just a 'prudish bookworm' to many, but to him, she was a wild blaze that could not be extinguished. He would never dare try to either.

She interrupted his thoughts that were centered on her, with simple small talk. Soon, the small talk led into their interests, which eventually led into debate.

Neither noticed when the first song broke into the second, or when the second broke into the fourth.

As the rise of their discussion rose, so did their pace. Soon, they were simply marching across the floor, each step matched in power and grace.

It was beautiful. The rising and catching of fire against water. Neither extinguished or boiling, but as a standstill. Both testing the differences and heights and limits of the other.

In the first time in a long while, Adrian was whole. It felt as if every crack and missing piece had sealed itself together with her. It was as it should be.

Suddenly, the world went quiet.

It was time.

Adrian gently shrugged her hand off of his shoulder, before dropping down on one knee. The hand that rested on the top of her back glided down, caressing her side, before he clasped her small hand inside his.

She knew where he was going with this, as her free hand flew up to cover her mouth, and her eyes lit up in delight.

All eyes were on them, and he prayed to Merlin that she accepted.

"Hermione Granger. You've been the love of my life for far longer than I care to admit. I've seen you take over our world, one argument at a time; you've stood up for what was right, when everyone else believed it wasn't wrong," he began.

"You've blessed me with so many happy years with you; years that I never want to end.

"You make me a better man, you're filled with compassion that I envy. I love you, Hermione, so would you make me the happiest Wizard on Earth, and be my wife?" Adrian finished, noticing the tears that streamed slowly down her cheeks.

"Yes," she half-sobbed out, "yes, I will marry you!"

Adrian fished the ring out of his pocket before he presented her the small ring. It may have been simple, with Slytherin colours, but it was her style. Gracefully, he slipped it on her fourth finger on her left hand, and before he stood, he placed a gentle kiss upon her skin.

When he towered over her again, he pulled her as close as he could before slanting his lips atop hers.

He faintly heard the sound of clapping behind them, along with the sharp whistles and catcalls.

He didn't care.

She would be his until they died. He never felt as wholesome or complete as he did in that moment.

When they finally broke apart, the music started once more and he led Hermione to their seats. He slipped two flutes of champagne off of a passing waiter, and passed on to her.

Finally seated, they enjoyed the rest of the night dancing and chatting amicably with their friends.

"I love you," Hermione whispered as she swayed with her new Fiance on the last dance of their night.

"I love you too, Hermione," Adrian whispered back.

She was his delicate beauty, and he was her shining Prince.

Together, forever.


End file.
